


Cnut

by Prochytes



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 04:09:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prochytes/pseuds/Prochytes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tide is rising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cnut

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ in 2013.

The world has always sweated stories, for those who have the wherewithal to see. They bead for a moment – a sparkle in the Orb of Agamotto, an instant’s gleam to the Heimdallsight, trained forever on the bridge of stars – and they are gone. But not all are forgotten.

One such story concerns a king, and a rising tide.

There would have been courtiers – this was, after all, the point – joking, perhaps, to relieve the tension, and biting their nails. Gulls, too, for this story has to happen by the sea, their voices raucous as Internet trolls. A warm day, holding the uncertain promise of rain. This was England, where one learns to live with doubt.

A lull in the conversation, as the king’s functionary carried a great chair to the water’s edge and set it down, with strength surprising in so slight a frame, and the weary precision that scribes share with professional killers. The king took his seat and told the waves, in ringing tones, to hold their ground. 

Cataracts and hurricanoes might have been thought apt at this point. They were not forthcoming. The king grew moist, and subsequently damp. He would have held out for sodden, but the chair was becoming wet too, and it was a good chair. The king and his functionary dripped away. The crowd dispersed. So, after a meaningless interval, did the birds.

Thus runs the tale, which is often misunderstood. For the king knew well that, whatever his will, the tide would rise. It was the courtiers who had to be made to see. A god, perhaps, can tell the sea to stand its ground, and expect obedience. A man knows that it will not, and plans accordingly.

This is a story about the wisdom of a king, and not his folly. 

FINIS


End file.
